Another poem for my poetry class...I started this a few months ago, made some revisions, and post it here.
Lunchroom Savior
Wasatch Academy High School, 2010
It is middle school
all over again.
Tables full,
tray in hand,
a labyrinth of jovial disdain.
There are necklaces
and finely sculpted hair,
dakine backpacks,
and I have memories
of the jungle I felt
at age fourteen.
It is Talent Middle School.
Taran Nadler and Christine Scholes
are sucking face
in a cheering circle of their peers,
And I am standing with my tray
in my hands.
Apologetic.
It is Phoenix High School.
I stand surrounded
sumptuous breasts,
obscene thighs.
I watch
and build towers
out of the remains of my lunch.
It is Girl Scout Camp.
Summer of 1999.
And I walk in to a cabin
in time to hear laughter cut short.
I take my tray
and wander again.
Twenty four now,
but still unsure of the jungle.
And he comes.
Bare feet. Long hair. Blue eyes.
He sets his tray down beside me
and for this half-hour,
we are outcasts no more.
2 comments:
Very nice, Liz. A return is always a deep subject. It resonates.
"I watch and build towers with the remains of my lunch."
My favorite line. It's a picture amid chaos.
You might try smashing it into one stanza. (Sorry, ever the editor.) Maybe lengthen the lines. It'll feel more lost.
Take out a few of the telling lines. You already have bones and flesh. You don't need to put on makeup. You feeling me?
Great stuff.
i lurve this. except i ate lunch in the bathroom. for serious. i saw you today and i wanted to say hi but i had to go home and puke. word verification: rerde (rear end dances preformed in tantric dances) (is that correct?
Post a Comment